


two minutes until midnight

by erzi



Category: ACCA13区監察課 | ACCA 13-ku Kansatsuka
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 04:31:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13206030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erzi/pseuds/erzi
Summary: Jean revels in the pleasantry of the quiet city. Hardly anyone is out, preferring to spend the last day of the year with good company somewhere cozy. The street lamps are on, casting their warm conical lights on the sidewalks; the silhouettes of skyscrapers are dotted with lit windows; the traffic is rare. Practiced, he lights a cigarette without looking, his eyes even on the moon, full tonight. The sky, cloudless and black, seems to be holding its breath, waiting for the fireworks that will illuminate it soon.





	two minutes until midnight

So many bodies crowded into one space, laughing and talking loudly over all those _other_ loud voices, with a hundred different scents of perfume and cologne mingling with each other. Decorations and lights hang like vines from the staircases and over the top of the walls, but they are nothing compared to the grand chandelier's glow that reveals the lines and wrinkles even makeup cannot conceal. And the alcohol flows on, heightening all the senses, these experiences.

Jean politely takes his leave from the conversation he's been coaxed into, stepping outside his building and into the chilly darkness.

Refreshed immediately, he runs a hand through his hair. He doesn't really like parties, much less New Year's ones. They're too hectic. He sighs. _Thank goodness for Lotta_. Jean can count on her to be the gracious host; the one who, with a kind smile, knows what to say to everyone. Socializing takes a toll on him after a while, and he is tired now. A smoke was needed. But even inside, he had to chat to do so, among the other smokers. Here, it's just him.

Jean revels in the pleasantry of the quiet city. Hardly anyone is out, preferring to spend the last day of the year with good company somewhere cozy. The street lamps are on, casting their warm conical lights on the sidewalks; the silhouettes of skyscrapers are dotted with lit windows; the traffic is rare. Practiced, he lights a cigarette without looking, his eyes even on the moon, full tonight. The sky, cloudless and black, seems to be holding its breath, waiting for the fireworks that will illuminate it soon.

The doors open behind him, and the stiffness in his muscles melts when a familiar voice says, "There you are."

Jean exhales. "Don't tell Lotta I fled the party," he says, leaning back against the building.

Nino walks up beside him. "Never. I'd be incriminated, too." Jean can hear the smile in his voice.

"What are you doing out here?" A smile is on his own face. "The alcohol's inside."

"But you're not."

Jean's tongue runs along the back of his teeth. He takes a brisk drag, barely holding in the smoke before puffing it out. "Because I'm... smoking," he says, lamely.

Nino raises an eyebrow, amused. "Oh, is there a rule that says only smokers can go outside?"

"There's a lot of people at the party. I wanted some time alone."

"Ah." Nino's face falls. "Sorry. I'll go back-"

"What? No," Jean says, reaching for him without thinking. "You're different." He drops his hand. "You should know that."

Two heartbeats pass, and Nino's smile returns. "Thank you, Jean," he says, with such sincerity Jean doesn't breathe, lest the sound of it mask Nino's voice still sweet in his ears. Nino puts his hands in his pockets. "It's hard to believe the year's ending."

"I can believe it," Jean says, tapping ash off his cigarette. The corners of his mouth tug upward. "I don't know about you, but I hope this next one is the exact opposite of everything that went down this past year. Some calm would be nice. I want to take it easy from now on."

Nino laughs. "I can't argue that." He gazes at the stars above, tilting his head just so that shadows frame his face like in a tastefully composed photograph. It _would_ make a good photograph. But Jean's not the one with that hobby, and he closes his eyes to commit this moment to memory.

"No matter what this next year brings," Nino says, making Jean open his eyes to meet Nino's, who does not just look at him but _see_ _s_ him, "I'm here for you. Through good, through bad. Through anything."

_Like last year, and the year before that, and the one before that, and before that..._ Jean takes another drag of his cigarette to keep his thoughts unspoken. "I know," he says instead, smoke curling past his lips. He puts out the stub on the sole of his shoe and walks to the trash can to throw it away. He turns, taking in the sight of Nino, contrasted by light and dark against the brick wall. _You're the one constant in my life._ "I can always count on you." _Please don't ever leave me._ "Thank you."

Nino's reply is a soft smile.

Sometimes, the two of them go beyond words.

Jean takes his place next to Nino again.

"Are-" Nino starts, and is interrupted by a squeal from inside the building, shrill enough it passed through the glass doors, and then cheers and claps.

"What was that?" Jean says, peeking around the corner. A man – one of his tenants – is down on one knee, sliding a ring onto a happily crying woman's hand. He settles back on the wall. "Someone proposed."

"On New Year's? Is that a good idea?"

"How would I know?"

"You got me there," Nino chuckles. "I guess their New Year's kiss will be that much more meaningful."

Jean stills. "People actually do that?"

"Jean," Nino says slowly, like he's trying to process Jean's question but also not laugh, "this isn't the first New Year's party you host. And you haven't noticed that?"

He glances sideways. "I thought it was a movie thing."

"It is _also_ a real-life thing."

Jean turns to Nino, eyes falling on his lips, quirked into a smile. He fleetingly looks everywhere else, hoping Nino didn't catch that. "Then you've done it? I've never seen," Jean says, his tongue ahead of his better judgment. He suppresses a wince.

"No," Nino says, "but it's a sweet concept. You begin a whole new year with someone important to you. Time goes on but there's someone with you whose presence has been steady. It's nice."

Jean's hands, feeling empty and nervous, brush aside a strand of hair he didn't need to. _Th_ _at sound_ _s_ _like us_ _,_ he thinks.  _Does Nino realize it?_

Maybe so, because Nino is pointedly not looking at him when he asks Jean if he's going back inside, now that he's done smoking, and also it's a bit cold out.

Jean considers it. "No," he decides. "Let's ring in the new year outside, for a change. If we heard that proposal, we'll hear the countdown. What time is it, anyway?"

Nino checks his phone. "11:58."

_Almost time._ _What do we do for the next t_ _wo_ _minutes?_   Jean wonders. This has never been a problem between them; now, the remaining seconds of the year seem to painfully stretch themselves out just to make Jean's heartbeat flutter. His eyes flit to Nino's mouth again. Back to the street.

"So you've really never kissed anyone on New Year's?" he asks.

"First you're surprised people do that, and now you're surprised I haven't?"

Somewhat hesitantly, he faces Nino. "Because it's you," Jean says, the tips of his ears warming up. "You're... um, you have..." _Soft-looking hair._ _Deep e_ _yes that speak for you when your_ _deeper_ _voice doesn't._ _A_ _lau_ _g_ _h_ _to drown in._ _The perfect jawline._ _Really nice lips._ "A good face," he says, and regrets it immediately.

"A what now?" Nino says, trying and failing to keep a straight face.

"I mean you're, you know," Jean says, shrinking into his jacket's collar. "Attractive."

"You are, too. What's your point?"

Jean blinks. That was not what he thought he'd hear. The heat from his ears spreads to his cheeks.

"I think it's our generally aloof air that keep people away," Nino continues, with a little smile.

"And you don't care?"

"I don't need anyone else."

The cold air stings wonderfully as Jean breathes it in.

"You should keep your eyes up," Nino says, doing so himself. "The fireworks will start exactly at twelve."

"Right," Jean mumbles, but he can't look away from how yellow and black play with each other on Nino's sharp profile. _And imagine it with color from fireworks._

From behind the glass doors comes a muted chorus of voices shouting, "Ten!"

Still looking at the sky, Nino nudges Jean.

"Nine!"

They're standing close.

"Eight!"

Really. Nino's _right_ there.

"Seven!"

Neither of them–

"Six!"

–has kissed someone–

"Five!"

–on New Year's.

"Four!"

'A sweet concept,' Nino had said.

"Three!"

'I don't need anyone else.'

"Two!"

_And_ _I don'_ _t, either_ , Jean thinks. Knows.

"One!"

Jean moves with the whooshing of a single firework, intending to kiss Nino's cheek.

But.

Nino has turned, smiling affably, and he only gets out the first word of the phrase he's supposed to at this vibrant time when Jean's lips catch the corner of his mouth.

Joined by eleven smaller fireworks that swiftly traveled up, all twelve crackle mightily at the same time.

Nino's eyes are wide and alive with the pinprick dancing of the lights in the sky.

Jean steps back, head numb. Why did he do that? "Nino, I... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Don't," Nino whispers, cupping Jean's cheek. "Don't." He closes the distance between them as he gently meets Jean's lips.

It's over too fast, Jean only realizing Nino had kissed him back the moment he isn't anymore. Dazed, Jean brings his hand to his mouth, which pulses hotly in time with his heart. His thoughts unravel. _What.._ _.?_

More and more fireworks are shot up, the dark sky blooming and booming with fiery flowers in the midst of their silence, though they barely register at the hazy edge of Jean's consciousness. The only thing his mind can focus on, clutching on to it like a lifeline, is that Nino _kissed_ him.

Nino quietly clears his throat. "Happy New Year," he tries again.

Jean manages to calm his spinning mind. "You kissed me," he says.

"Well, that's not what you're supposed to say back. And yeah. Anyway, you kissed me first."

"It doesn't count. I meant to kiss your cheek, but you turned."

"It counts. Yes, you... missed. But in a good way."

"That's why it doesn't count."

"Are we really fighting about this? What are we, in high school? You kissed me first." Nino pokes Jean in the chest. "No take-backs."

A small laugh escapes from Jean. "Okay," he says, "I kissed you first." It's strange to say it, stranger to accept it, though not without a hint of bashfulness.

Nino's smile glows more than any firework ever could.

"Oh. Happy New Year to you, too, Nino," Jean adds.

"Thank you. I think it's off to a good start so far. Hopefully the rest of the year is just like it," Nino says, lightly.

"Hmm, I wonder," Jean says, looping his arm through Nino's.

Nino chuckles and glances over his shoulder. "Think we should head back inside?"

"Yeah. The cold is getting to me and I need to go around and tell others 'Happy New Year.'"

"As long as you don't also kiss them."

Jean smiles as he presses another kiss – longer, now – on Nino's cheek. "No. That's just for you."

Together they climb the building's steps, the muffled jubilation of the party brightening when Nino opens the doors, only to be resecured by the glass as soon as the doors glide to a close.

**Author's Note:**

> the year may be over but never my love of these two. also i accidentally wrote 'happy new rear' instead of 'happy new year' twice while writing this which made me think of
> 
> jean: *turns*  
> nino, admiring the booty: happy new rear  
> jean: stop


End file.
